From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
Maybe the infirmary wasn’t the best place to be hanging around, considering the likelihood of running into people, but Nate couldn’t quite help himself. It felt a fair bit warmer than being in the VlamVloed alone, and as long as he didn’t disturb anyone, he had as much of a right as anyone to spend time in the stone halls.
Still, Nate lingers near the door, wrapping and unwrapping his knuckles with some spare length of gauze, ready to leave at a moments notice, if he needs to. He should probably go soon, return to the cold room before it gets too late, and his paranoia grows too deep to actually venture out into the night.
Knowing that doesn’t have him moving though, his hands still stubbornly locked in the repetitive motion, between each finger, up and down, and then in reverse, over and over and over.
It had taken longer than it probably should for Cam to seek out the infirmary. They'd known from their first day in Caido that they would have to eventually -- they'd gotten lucky, really, to have their prescription refills on them when zapped into this world. But they'd never been that good at keeping track of their medication on Earth, relying mostly on their pharmacy's automatic refills; in Caido, with so many other concerns on their plate, it was even worse.
Besides, they had an inkling that no one here could help them. But it didn't hurt to ask.
So they pushed the door open slowly, knocking on it in a sort of after-the-fact warning of their approach.
"I need to see a doctor, or apothecary, or something ..."
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
The door creaks open, Nate’s ceaseless wrapping not slowing as he looks up, a brow lifting in the closest thing to greeting Cameron will get. He glances briefly to the back of the hall, where Isla’s office sits, the door closed, and sits up, leaving his hand wrapped for the moment.
”You’re in luck. I’m the best something this side of the woods.” His tone is painfully dry, despite the joke. With a sigh, Nate pushes himself to his feet, and steps towards one of the empty beds, waiting for his newfound patient to follow so he can close the curtains around them in a facade of privacy.
A hand gestures toward the bed while Nate himself settles at the edge of it, fixing Cam with an unblinking stare, unblinking eyes quite literally glowing as he tries to figure out the reason for the visit before it’s explained. ”Whats the uh, reason for your visit?”
Nate's manner actually made Cam more nervous -- they just got this vibe that this guy did not want to be here, did not want Cameron to be here, did not want to help them. They tried to push down their anxiety, telling themself that Nate was probably just bored, or hungry, or something. But a part of Cam was all too ready to assume that people disliked them just because someone didn't show immediate signs of liking them.
They followed Nate to the bed, but stood beside it instead of sitting down, especially when Nate sat on the edge himself. "Well, I'm an Outlander, and at home I was on medication. Um, antidepressants. To, uh, help me with energy and, uh, concentration ... "
Did they have to explain depression -- and the medicines that treated it -- to someone in Caido? If so, Cam suspected that they wouldn't get the help they needed. They went on: "Going off these medications can mess you up pretty badly, but I don't exactly have a supply here. I have, uh, about a week's worth left. I can try to taper off, and that might help with the worst of the withdrawal effects, but I'm still going to be left with the same terrible brain chemistry I started with."
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
As soon as he sits down, Nate settles into a routine, so automatic that he doesn’t need to think about. He raises a brow when they stay standing, but nods at the outlander information, nods at medication, nods at- ”Wait, antidepressants?” The doctor snaps out of his stupor, focusing on Cameron with an uncomfortable intensity.
Nate forces himself back to his feet, holding his tongue until the other is done their explanation, and nodding along with far more fervour. ”What were you on?” His first, most important question. A hand comes out expectantly, like he expects a bottle to be placed in his hand, assuming that Cameron carries their pills around.
Honestly, there isn’t a huge amount Nate thinks he can do. He doesn’t have the background needed to synthesize anything, isn’t even sure Caido has the chemicals needed to make anything that comes to mind. And that’s just assuming they’re even talking about the same thing, that Meron is from earth and taking something familiar to him.
"Yes," Cam said, relieved that Nate had at least heard of the medication they needed. Maybe he was an Outlander as well? Or maybe -- and this would be nice -- Caido actually had antidepressants, and this would not be a big issue.
Cameron had left the bottles themselves back at the inn where they were staying, but they'd talked to enough doctors over the years to have their medications and dosages memorized. "150 milligrams of venlafaxine and 2 milligrams of Abilify -- aripiprazole. Once daily."
They hesitated, then added, "I know the venlafaxine in particular has some pretty bad withdrawal effects -- I've run out of it before, just by accident, and after about two days I get pretty miserable. Not sure about the Abilify; I've gone off it for a week before without noticing anything really bad."
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
”I was a doctor back on Earth, where I came from.” Nate offers, both an explanation and a feeler. There’s enough familiar to warrant an attempt, an educated guess, and enough of a precedent for it to be possible.
The rattled off list is precise, routine sounding, and immediately foreign to the ascended. Nate doesn’t need to actually say that he doesn’t recognize the medications Cameron lists, because the confused disappointment is written clearly across his features.
”I can... probably find something that can alleviate depression. And the other symptoms. I can definitely find something to make coming down easier.” But neither of these things are a solution, and as much as he is loathe to admit it. ”There are... other things you can try, if you’re desperate. Things that might seem... outlandish?”
"Oh, I'm from Earth too!" Cam said, perking up a little -- Nate was the first person they'd met who shared their background. "I was a photographer. Kind of hard to do that here, when my camera got bricked on arrival."
They were disappointed, but not surprised, to see that Nate didn't recognize the medication, but his words did give them some hope. "That would be good. It's already kind of uh ... weird being here, and I think it'd be really bad without my medication."
While they still thought getting zapped to Caido was kind of cool, they could recognize the early warning signs of a decline in their mental health. Food was one of the big ones -- their eating disorder had made it hard to eat even at home, where they had their pick of any food they liked; here, where they had to pretty much eat what they could get, their eating was growing more and more irregular. And the anxiety of being in a strange place, surrounded by strange people, bereft of their usual occupations and comforts, only exacerbated that.
"What do you mean by outlandish?" Cam said, unsure just how desperate they were.
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
"Really?" A low whistle leaves Nate, the accent colouring his words suddenly a bright stain instead of a suggestion. "I had a coupl'a buddies who did photography, we tried to get a magazine together once. Never panned out." A more thorough glance is thrown over Cameron, the doctors head tilting. "Where're you from?"
There's a definite disconnect from the odd reminiscing that he's slipped into, and the reality of this particular appointment. Nate's mind is swimming with old memories, the handful of others he's met from Earth, and various tinctures and mixtures he could offer that would alleviate the mental health struggle. Why alleviate when you could heal though, if not by his hand, then by another, more divine one.
"Well..." It's easy to see the hesitance on his face, easy to hear it in his tone. He's been here long enough that the strangeness of Caido has become normal, but all it's taken is the shock of speaking to someone else from Earth to have him realize how much he's learned to swallow. "Have you been here long enough to hear about the Gods?" It's easiest maybe, to start with this, to gauge Cameron's understanding, let them maybe come to the idea on their own.
"Ah, cool!" Cam brightened. "I'm from Georgia. Having your own magazine sounds awesome -- I mostly just do corporate ads these days. Or I did. Can't say I'm too sorry to be done with that job, honestly."
That was one benefit of coming to Caido. Of course, the way they currently earned their keep -- dishes and menial chores -- wasn't much better, but they didn't hate it as much as they would have thought. Doing household chores wasn't so bad when they didn't have to work a soulless job on top of them.
"I have." Cam nodded. Really, they'd started hearing about Caido's gods on day one, but they'd been around long enough to have at least the bullet-point version of each god. "It's Mort, Vi, Rae, and their heralds -- Ludo, Safrin, and Frey -- against the Voice, right? Not too many names to remember."
They thought about mentioning their conversation with Wessex, but it had gotten cut off before Wessex could really get into detail -- right when she'd been talking about her biases, really. They'd get more details from her soon, when she asked that little favor of them, but that was in the future for now.
"Are you saying the gods can cure my depression?" Cam said, half-joking, and then realized that they should probably take that possibility seriously.
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
”It was fifty pages of ads, and few articles about boats.” Nate laughs, trying to cut off the excitement before he made it sound like he’d actually done something. ”Ad-space all got sold, but nothing ever made it to the printers.” Nate shrugs in a very decidedly unconcerned way. ”I’m from New Jersey, originally.” A fact made obvious by his accent, he was sure.
Some knowledge was better than nothing. It at least gave him a starting point, Nate nodding along to the quick and dirty explanation that Cameron rattles off. ”Thats all of them, yup.” This time, Nate manages a quick grin, his head cocking to the side. Cameron, smart cookie they were, put together his suggestion, waving Nate with the difficult task of honesty
”I’m sure that the Voice at least would.” Really, the more he thought about it, the more right it sounded. ”I can’t say for sure any of the Heralds would, not without asking something of you first.” Bitterness infects his tone, not nearly as subtle as he wants. ”If you decide to ask her, I can go with you.”
Cam grinned. "Better than my recent work, which is a hundred pages of ads and not even a good boat."
Then they focused on the whole god thing. The concept of a god curing their depression almost made them laugh, but Nate was clearly serious -- and the idea was starting to excite them, too. Living without the emotional weight on their chest that they'd born since they were a teenager? Yes please. "The Voice would help me? Why? I mean, you said the heralds would want something from me; why not the Voice?"
They could understand the heralds wanting compensation for such a cure, and they could understand gods bestowing blessings on their worshipers, but they weren't a follower of any god. At least, not yet. Maybe that was the catch. Though Wessex, too, had seemed to suggest that the Voice was more altruistic than the other gods.
When Nate offered to come with them, Cam nodded and added, "Do you know her? The Voice, I mean."
"Knowing" a god seemed like a weird concept, but Neos had said the gods here were quite active,
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
”The Voice encourages people to be the best versions of themselves. To... grow in ways that are useful, but fulfilling. Or to fix things that are broken.” With the last point, Nate gestures to his own face, the deep scar that slashes over one of his eyes. It takes a little more thought to describe the Heralds, the doctor making a face and straightening. ”With the Heralds, there’s this sense that you’re being manipulated, and if you don’t do what they want, they’ll take it out on you.”
Nate has his own bad experiences, things that haunt the edges of his voice. A hand lifts to rub at his chin, considering his explanation, his biases.
”I do know her.” As strange a thought as that is. He’d grown closer to the Goddess in the last year, closer than he thought he’d ever actually get. ”I uh, ascended pretty early on, and that comes with a certain amount of reliance on the Voice.” Theres another beat, another pause. ”She might ask you if you want to ascend.” It would be payment, of a kind, and a cute, of a kind.
"Hmm." Encouraging people to grow sounded good, though Cam couldn't help bristling a bit at fix things that are broken. They tried to hide their reaction, but they tried not to think of themself as broken, when they could help it. But they told themself that wasn't what Nate had meant. "She fixed your eye?"
Nate's description of the heralds seemed a bit, well, biased, but Cam didn't have enough experience with them to say he was wrong. It didn't surprise Cam, anyway, to hear about gods demanding obedience. Rather, they were more doubtful that the Voice wouldn't want something from them.
"What kind of reliance?" Cam asked, trying not to pay attention to how surreal the concept that the man before them knew a goddess felt. And then Nate added the bit about Ascending, and Cam frowned. "What does Ascending entail, exactly? I know a bit about the Ascended ... " They thought back to their conversation with Adam. "I know they -- you -- can't taste or be in the sun or, um, do other things" -- sex, they meant, not that losing that ability would bother them -- "and something about drinking blood? But mostly I just know that a lot of people hate them and want them dead."
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
